Don lives a fairly commonplace life in a fairly commonplace town. He had just had a fairly commonplace night's sleep and is advent down the stairs wearing his commonplace stripy blue and red pajamas and grey slippers. Bleary eyed, he shuffles into the kitchen. He is alone. Or is he?
"Morning!" says the fridge. Donald mumbles incoherently. "Open me, open me!" blurts the cooker. The fridge says: "he won't open you, silly! He wants milk for his coffee. Open me first, Don!"
Cooker: "he opened me first yesterday".
Fridge: "no he didn't"
"Shhh!" said Don. "I've just woken up. Just be quiet". He then goes to the cupboard, takes out a pack of cookies and opens them.
"Hey, turn me on big boy!" says the sleek new pale yellow kettle that Don had only purchased yesterday. Don obliges. As he does so, some crumbs from the pack of cookies spill onto it. "Sorry", says Don.
In the short-lived silence that followed, Don collects his thoughts about the day ahead. He will be having a meeting with his best client and wants to give a good impression. "I'm warming up for you. Don", says the kettle. Fridge says: "this is too much! She's only been here one day and she's causing trouble and bothering Donald". The kettle says to the fridge: "Hey. Keep cool".
At this moment a fly flies into the kitchen. All conversation stops and there is an air of expectation among Don and his inanimate friends as they all fix themselves on the fly killer motor above the door. Don had purchased the Insectocutor at http://www.eeeee.co.uk. When he received it he was impressed by this sturdy, solid, well-constructed machine. Such a distinction to the flimsy plastic fly killers that, well...couldn't kill a fly. It is the end of spring and this is the first fly that has been in the kitchen since last fall - and the first big test for the fly killer machine.
The fly killer is known as the Insectocutor (this word is always spoken in a slow menacing tone, like a tv announcer might say "The Liq-uid-at-or!" or the "Term-in-at-or"). The Insectocutor is precisely quite timid and is usually very quiet. However, his big moment has now arrived.
The fridge gives out a stifled yelp. The cooker and the toaster all silently will on the Insectocutor. Will he be able to attract the fly? Will he kill it? Will Don be impressed? None of them want to end up like the old kettle that broke down and was dumped unceremoniously. Not that any of them are too keen on the replacement. The new kettle had not lived though the winter where the Insectocutor just had the odd moth to deal with and that was about all. He had been quite depressed precisely when he saw all the other kitchen appliances busy doing their work when he was virtually unemployed. He had to explore the old kettle working herself to death while he just did nothing.
There he is, beaming out the ultra violet rays from his lamp, trying to attract the fly's attention. The fly is by now hovering over the cooker who says "go away you disease-ridden creature!"
"Shut up!" says the fly. "I'll go where I please". The fly then lets out a sinister chuckle. "Anybody want some germs? Ha ha! Any food lying around?" He then hovers over the kettle who has been quite impassive up until now. She says: "Don't come near me. I'm new." She then remembers that she is covered with cookie crumbs. The fly is till hovering. His gaze falls upon a cookie crumb on the kettle, then an additional one and another. He quickly looks up. As he does, he notices something that he noticed when he first entered the room: a hint - a reflection - of irresistible ultra violet light. He looks down again at the kettle with its ready meal of cookie crumbs, enticing him. He hovers closer, then darts up, then back and even closer still. He has found his meal.
Kettle: "I don't want your germs! Go away!"
Fly: "You are so ungrateful! Did you know that I not only give you the germs for free but I will probably be sick over you into the agreement - that's what us flies do".
"Argh!" says the Kettle, who is now quite distressed and agitated. She tries to get as hot as potential in order to repel the fly, but she is merely warm, and this attracts the fly even more.
The fly is still troubled by the u.v. Light. He wonders where it is advent from and looks colse to again. Then a revelation! He sees it. There it is, shining brightly above the door that he came in. He stares at it. The Insectocutor shines his lamp for all it's worth. He concentrates as hard as he can on luring the fly.
"Come on fly," says the Insectocutor, "come to me".
For the first time kettle precisely notices the insectocutor and, even in her state of despair, she is impressed. The fly looks down at the cookie crumbs on the kettle, and then looks back up to the enticing u.v. Light, then down again.
He gives his verdict: "I'll be back, kettle, I'll be back. Oh, and remember that I will have a nasty microscopic gift for you. Ha ha!" He knows that he can't resist the glare of the ultra violet lamp any longer. He flies towards it and as he does he says to the cooker, fridge, toaster, kettle and all the other kitchen appliances: "see you soon suckers!"
As he flies towards him, the fly addresses the insectocutor: "And what kind of expedient are you? You are very very inviting with your ultra violet light. I'm seeing transmit to being sick over you. Ha Ha!"
Insectocutor: "Welcome, fly"
Fly: "You are precisely welcoming me? You mug!"
The fly closes in on the insectocutor. As he does so he is bathed in u.v. Light and is desperate to get even closer to its source. All the kitchen appliances and its one human occupant are fixed on this spectacle. Then the fly touches the electrified grid of the insectocutor. In that instant he realizes his folly. His disrespect for the insectocutor is supplanted by a realization that he has been fooled. But this is only in an instant - a fraction of a second. In this fragment of time a microscopic sizzle is heard as the fly falls down dead into the insectocutor's catch tray.
This was the Insectocutor's first kill. His general quiet and reserved manner yields to a well of emotion as he pronounces: "I am a finely tuned machine. When I kill flying insects, I make sure their bodies fall into the catch tray. Some cheaper fly killers just make their bodies explode. I never do. I am clean and hygienic"
After this triumphant speech there is a moment's silence. Then Don gives the insectocutor a round of applause and the fridge, cooker and toaster all offer their congratulations. The kettle boils over at that very point in time and gives out a loud whistle of pleasure because she has been saved from a degrading and horrid fate and has found a very handsome friend in the Insectocutor. Don is very pleased to get back to his commonplace kind of day. As he leaves his commonplace house in his commonplace car he muses on how satisfied he is with his new Insectocutor fly killer and knows that he will have a good meeting at work today knowing that his kitchen is being protected from those nasty flies.
Don's World - A Big Test for the Insectocutor
